[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
down. All the while he rubbed his hands together or ran his fingers through his
hair. Each time he looked at the floor and saw Stephen Medlocke lying there
unconscious with a near-gangrenous jaw, his stomach verged on expelling its
contents. He wished Moloch hadn't insisted on bringing Stephen along, but was
hardly in a position to voice a negative opinion.
What have I gotten myself into?
He looked at Moloch, who stood by the sliding glass doors, watching the sun rise
through the trees. If he didn't know better, he'd think the creature's face was
blessed with a look of contentment. Then Moloch spoke.
"This is truly a beautiful world," it said, and Quintard couldn't tell if it was
talking only to itself.
Moloch turned away from the window.
"I shall take great pleasure in ruling it," it said.
Quintard tried to smile, but all he could dredge up was a grimace.
"Don't worry," Moloch said, spying the expression. "You shall be in a position of
authority with anything you wish. Those who help me are rewarded."
"Thank you," Quintard croaked.
Moloch nodded and Quintard decided to press matters a bit further.
"What exactly do you have in mind for the time being?" he asked. "With
Medlocke and this woman, I mean."
Without looking at Quintard, Moloch answered matter-of-factly.
"I intend to kill them both," it said. "I thought you understood that."
Bile burned the back of Quintard's throat, but he continued his questioning.
"Why exactly do you want Medlocke dead?"
Moloch turned and pointed at the M on its face. "I assume you've noticed this?"
it asked. Quintard nodded. "It was given to me by a Medlocke over five hundred
years ago. It was the Medlockes who first brought me to this world then cast me
out like a dog. I never forgot nor forgave. The Medlockes have prevented me
from my rightful inheritance of this world for too long. Jason Medlocke is the
last in the bloodline. Once he is erased, my path is clear."
"What about the woman?" Quintard said. "What does she have to do with it?"
"She is pregnant with Medlocke's child. I cannot take the chance that another
Medlocke son will be brought into this world. Sons carry the power to stop me."
"Suppose it's not a boy? Suppose it's a girl?" Quintard asked.
Moloch smiled, its teeth glinting in the golden morning light. Quintard thought
the combination of the beautiful morning sun and the deadly teeth was the most
terrible thing he'd ever seen.
"Boy or girl, the woman must die," Moloch said. "Killing the unborn child is
only part of the reason. I intend to kill the woman while Medlocke watches. I
wish to make him suffer to the depths of his soul. I wish to hear him cry out in
anguish and know the fate of this world rests on his shoulders and he has
failed."
Quintard had never much believed in God, had tried not to think much about it
since killing his father. But if there was a devil, then this creature was it. And he
knew if he helped it, his soul was lost. More so than it already was.
He only wanted to ruin Medlocke's life, to bring him to his knees. And so help
him God, he never meant for the woman to end up a casualty and, so help him
God again, not a baby.
He suddenly found himself believing strongly in the burning fires of hell and
didn't want to spend eternity there.
But what could he do?
His thoughts were interrupted by a small grunt from Moloch. The beast tilted its
head to one side, as if it were listening to something floating by on the breeze.
Moloch stood silently for about ten seconds, then nodded. It looked at Quintard.
"Time to go. The mouse has thrown a wrinkle into the fabric of my plan. He is
more wily than I thought. No matter. The end result will be the same. Go get the
girl and let's be on our way."
Quintard rose from the sofa and marched dutifully back to the bedroom. Alex
still was in the bed, trapped there by the green bands of energy Moloch had
wrapped around her. Her eyes, once wide with terror and puffy with crying, now
were hard and hot. Fury rolled behind them.
She looked at Quintard with hatred that surpassed anything he had ever
experienced. He felt small and worthless.
"You fucking worm," she said as he stood beside the bed. "You don't think it's
going to let you live once this is all over? It doesn't like humans, much less need
them. It's going to blast you into bloody chunks the first chance it gets. I just
hope I'm around to see it."
"I& I& I didn't know," Quintard said, saltiness welling up in his eyes. "Honest
to God. This is beyond anything I planned. I don't even know where this creature
came from. It was at Medlocke's apartment when I got there."
"So you just fell in with it like a good little Nazi brownshirt," Alex said. "You're
still scum."
Anger rose in Quintard's chest.
"And what would you have done?" he asked spitefully.
"Let it kill you right there on the spot? No, Miss High-and-Mighty, you'd have
done exactly what I did anything to keep yourself alive." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
down. All the while he rubbed his hands together or ran his fingers through his
hair. Each time he looked at the floor and saw Stephen Medlocke lying there
unconscious with a near-gangrenous jaw, his stomach verged on expelling its
contents. He wished Moloch hadn't insisted on bringing Stephen along, but was
hardly in a position to voice a negative opinion.
What have I gotten myself into?
He looked at Moloch, who stood by the sliding glass doors, watching the sun rise
through the trees. If he didn't know better, he'd think the creature's face was
blessed with a look of contentment. Then Moloch spoke.
"This is truly a beautiful world," it said, and Quintard couldn't tell if it was
talking only to itself.
Moloch turned away from the window.
"I shall take great pleasure in ruling it," it said.
Quintard tried to smile, but all he could dredge up was a grimace.
"Don't worry," Moloch said, spying the expression. "You shall be in a position of
authority with anything you wish. Those who help me are rewarded."
"Thank you," Quintard croaked.
Moloch nodded and Quintard decided to press matters a bit further.
"What exactly do you have in mind for the time being?" he asked. "With
Medlocke and this woman, I mean."
Without looking at Quintard, Moloch answered matter-of-factly.
"I intend to kill them both," it said. "I thought you understood that."
Bile burned the back of Quintard's throat, but he continued his questioning.
"Why exactly do you want Medlocke dead?"
Moloch turned and pointed at the M on its face. "I assume you've noticed this?"
it asked. Quintard nodded. "It was given to me by a Medlocke over five hundred
years ago. It was the Medlockes who first brought me to this world then cast me
out like a dog. I never forgot nor forgave. The Medlockes have prevented me
from my rightful inheritance of this world for too long. Jason Medlocke is the
last in the bloodline. Once he is erased, my path is clear."
"What about the woman?" Quintard said. "What does she have to do with it?"
"She is pregnant with Medlocke's child. I cannot take the chance that another
Medlocke son will be brought into this world. Sons carry the power to stop me."
"Suppose it's not a boy? Suppose it's a girl?" Quintard asked.
Moloch smiled, its teeth glinting in the golden morning light. Quintard thought
the combination of the beautiful morning sun and the deadly teeth was the most
terrible thing he'd ever seen.
"Boy or girl, the woman must die," Moloch said. "Killing the unborn child is
only part of the reason. I intend to kill the woman while Medlocke watches. I
wish to make him suffer to the depths of his soul. I wish to hear him cry out in
anguish and know the fate of this world rests on his shoulders and he has
failed."
Quintard had never much believed in God, had tried not to think much about it
since killing his father. But if there was a devil, then this creature was it. And he
knew if he helped it, his soul was lost. More so than it already was.
He only wanted to ruin Medlocke's life, to bring him to his knees. And so help
him God, he never meant for the woman to end up a casualty and, so help him
God again, not a baby.
He suddenly found himself believing strongly in the burning fires of hell and
didn't want to spend eternity there.
But what could he do?
His thoughts were interrupted by a small grunt from Moloch. The beast tilted its
head to one side, as if it were listening to something floating by on the breeze.
Moloch stood silently for about ten seconds, then nodded. It looked at Quintard.
"Time to go. The mouse has thrown a wrinkle into the fabric of my plan. He is
more wily than I thought. No matter. The end result will be the same. Go get the
girl and let's be on our way."
Quintard rose from the sofa and marched dutifully back to the bedroom. Alex
still was in the bed, trapped there by the green bands of energy Moloch had
wrapped around her. Her eyes, once wide with terror and puffy with crying, now
were hard and hot. Fury rolled behind them.
She looked at Quintard with hatred that surpassed anything he had ever
experienced. He felt small and worthless.
"You fucking worm," she said as he stood beside the bed. "You don't think it's
going to let you live once this is all over? It doesn't like humans, much less need
them. It's going to blast you into bloody chunks the first chance it gets. I just
hope I'm around to see it."
"I& I& I didn't know," Quintard said, saltiness welling up in his eyes. "Honest
to God. This is beyond anything I planned. I don't even know where this creature
came from. It was at Medlocke's apartment when I got there."
"So you just fell in with it like a good little Nazi brownshirt," Alex said. "You're
still scum."
Anger rose in Quintard's chest.
"And what would you have done?" he asked spitefully.
"Let it kill you right there on the spot? No, Miss High-and-Mighty, you'd have
done exactly what I did anything to keep yourself alive." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]